


Honey Teeth

by rebiTV



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Kidnapping, Other, Torture, Weird relationship, dubcon, its strade ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 20:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17773427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebiTV/pseuds/rebiTV
Summary: An encounter with Strade several days into your relationship.





	Honey Teeth

“You’re not looking too hot buddy.”

I turn my head, Strade’s heavy voice dripping through my brain like slow moving water.

“Ah, and look, your fingernails are all bit up too, did you do this while I was gone?”

I make a small noise in the back of my throat as he takes my hand, my eyes set on the movement of his fingers against my cuticles as my vision blurs in and out.

“Well, no need to worry, we still have time to get to know each other.”

Everything in his face and body seems friendly in that moment, and I grapple at his pant leg, looking for comfort despite knowing him to be the predator he was. He turns to look at me, surprised.

“Hey… you…“

He looks over my body, stopping at my eyes and lingering there, seeming to find something interesting in my expression. His cheeks are tinged with red, and after a beat, his expression breaks.

“Mnn… if you’re eager too, maybe now you’ll be more willing to participate? I don’t want you skipping out on choosing this time, okay buddy?” He says, rummaging through the drawers of his workbench. With his back turned to me, my tongue focuses more acutely on the copper taste in my mouth. I lick my dry lips in an attempt to distract myself. There’s a forceful, nearly heavy feeling in my skull just behind my eyeballs, like I should be crying but I am simply unable to, like that part of me got cut out along with everything else.

I think even if I were to get out now it would be a waste - I think I would just stare blankly through conversations - my reaction time shot to shit. I think I’d leave some part of my humanity down here as well. I think - I think - I think Strade just said something, but I didn’t respond, because now his boot is prodding at my stomach.

“Hey buddy, did you not hear me?” His eyebrows are creased, but he relaxes after seeing my attention snap back to him. His easy grin slides back onto his face.  
“It’s okay to take your time, it’s an important decision after all.”

He is holding a hacksaw in one hand, and a nail gun in the other. He’s looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to choose one.

I think the hacksaw will kill me quicker. The nails probably wouldn’t go deep enough. I repeat this thought to myself as I point to the saw, despite knowing that Strade will make it slow no matter which one I choose. Maybe he’ll accidentally hit a vein.

He’s talking again, but I can’t hear him, I can’t hear him, but I watch his mouth move anyway, watch his mouth move as he sets down the nail gun and leans towards me with the hacksaw, the hacksaw that will kill me, that will empty my blood onto the dirty basement floor and let it mix with the blood of other forgotten ex-people, the hacksaw like the one my brother used when he dabbled in carpentry for a short eight months, the hacksaw that Strade will use on the people that he brings here after me, the hacksaw digging its teeth into my spine, making rough red lines of something I’m sure is supposed to be pain. He’s going so _slowly._ I twist around, he probably thinks I’m trying to get away from him but I just want him to hurry up dammit. I just want him to… him to…

…

I reach around and grab the saw, letting its jagged teeth sink into the flesh of my palm. I can do it better myself. But before I can use it, it’s taken out of my hand, bits of skin and blood following it. Strade flips me over, looking at me strangely. I had forgotten he was there. His eyes are gleaming. His face is red and he smells like sweat. His eyes are so, so, bright, they look like fireflies, or gold, or the glow of a car’s headlights right before it runs down your dog, or lanterns, or gleaming polished knives, or or or

…

I punch him in the face.

The sound of his nose breaking is the most satisfying thing I’ve ever goddamn heard, or maybe that was the sound of whatever intact bones I still had left in my hand finally giving way. Who knows. It doesn’t fucking matter. He clutches his face and I scramble back, running on pure adrenaline. His eyes are screwed shut so I can’t make out his expression. I wish they were open. I hope he’s angry. I hope he understands that if he’s going to fill me with poison the least I can do is spit some back.

I’m leaning against the counter and I know I’ll take a breath and suddenly all the pain will crash down on me with the grace of a derailed train but all I can feel right now is a buzzing numbness and his eyes are open and he’s certainly angry but he’s also a little excited which makes me want to punch him again. I reach up to the shelf, trying to lift myself up to a standing position but my arms are shaking, and even the adrenalines not enough to stop my legs from giving out from under me.

Strade gets down on his knees and crawls over to me, holding down my hands and trapping my legs under his body. He’s still grinning, so I lean forward and take his bottom lip between my teeth, in something that would’ve been like a kiss if I didn’t then jerk my head back in an effort to rip it off his fucking jaw. He grabs my head to stop it from taking whatever bloody bits of him it could, and chases my mouth - letting his blood run down my chin. I let him, all energy leaving my body in an instant. I reach my hands up to stroke his hair. His tongue enters my mouth at the same moment I dig my fingernails into his glassy yellow eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Concrit appreciated, this is unbeta'd so if you find any typos please point them out!!


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